ghost of June

Falstaff · May 31, 2004, 10:17 PM

by Jeff fallang

On fatal shores our we endured
The coming battle our fate secured

Our stomachs purged and our minds are filled
Who among us will not, and who will be killed

Our purpose is clear and our boats are in range
The sea is black and the sky so strange

The drone of the engine and the heaving sea
Fill our ears and our mouths as we push on to destiny

Suddenly we hear the loud report
Heavy weapons from the coastal forts

I reached for my rifle and leaned against the steel
The cold and the damp I no longer feel

The boom and staccato of enemy guns
Is the music of battle yet unsung?

I open my mouth and scream for my maker
And the ramp drops in front of the very last breaker

Geysers of sand and water and blood
And my comrades in peril fall into the flood
Clang and clatter and boom and ricochet
Tell me the seven horseman are on their way

I run till my lungs are ready to burst
And find a niche to do my worst.

From several yards I see the blazing fire
And the calm soldier taking aim I couldn’t help but admire.

Without reluctance I took aim and I fired
And watched the enemy gunner expire.

Ignoring the shrapnel and the spectre of fear.
I kept firing my weapon into the enemy near.

From the beach to the bluffs to bunkers we ran
And we took no prisoners and made no distinction between boy and man.

We cleared the heights and we took the beach
And the town and the bridges were all in reach

I stood mute as the prisoners fell by the barricade pit
And heard the gunners machine gun spit

Then I stood for a moment and began to see
The terrible cost on the beach with great clarity

My lungs finally filled with the sweet afternoon air
And I couldn’t smell the flesh burning or the hair

For beneath my feet lay the bodies of the fallen and the brave.

And asked myself why I had survived the landing, the terrible fire, and the first wave.

Among me lay the desperate men who died
So I kept my fear and my tears inside.

I had but a moment before I could offer thanks to my maker.
And left the beach, the bunkers and the bodies floating in the breakers.

**dj_stick** · May 31, 2004, 11:43 PM

very nice

Patricia · Jun 1, 2004, 05:36 AM

I am speechless...

Very good work Jeff

mainman · Jun 1, 2004, 05:38 AM

Beautifull work Jeff!!!!!

Falstaff · Jun 1, 2004, 05:44 AM

thankyou, I wonder sometimes, listening to the old veterans in the oncology ward twenty years ago, if they wanted me to understand how they compared the fear of death at the hands of the enemy with the fear of death and the determination to fight on even in their hospital beds, with tubes and machines keeping them alive, I watched a generation of warriors succumb to disease and listened while I tended to their needs in their hospital beds. We called the oncology ward "stairway to heaven", and I spent hours after work, just listening to these men pass on into the darkness of their mortality and into the light of their finite exisitence...I wonder about them and hope they found their heaven or their Vahalla...

May 31, 2004, 10:17 PM	#1
Falstaff Old Codger Join Date: Sep 2002 Location: USAFA Posts: 19,048 Rep Power: 207	ghost of June by Jeff fallang On fatal shores our we endured The coming battle our fate secured Our stomachs purged and our minds are filled Who among us will not, and who will be killed Our purpose is clear and our boats are in range The sea is black and the sky so strange The drone of the engine and the heaving sea Fill our ears and our mouths as we push on to destiny Suddenly we hear the loud report Heavy weapons from the coastal forts I reached for my rifle and leaned against the steel The cold and the damp I no longer feel The boom and staccato of enemy guns Is the music of battle yet unsung? I open my mouth and scream for my maker And the ramp drops in front of the very last breaker Geysers of sand and water and blood And my comrades in peril fall into the flood Clang and clatter and boom and ricochet Tell me the seven horseman are on their way I run till my lungs are ready to burst And find a niche to do my worst. From several yards I see the blazing fire And the calm soldier taking aim I couldn’t help but admire. Without reluctance I took aim and I fired And watched the enemy gunner expire. Ignoring the shrapnel and the spectre of fear. I kept firing my weapon into the enemy near. From the beach to the bluffs to bunkers we ran And we took no prisoners and made no distinction between boy and man. We cleared the heights and we took the beach And the town and the bridges were all in reach I stood mute as the prisoners fell by the barricade pit And heard the gunners machine gun spit Then I stood for a moment and began to see The terrible cost on the beach with great clarity My lungs finally filled with the sweet afternoon air And I couldn’t smell the flesh burning or the hair For beneath my feet lay the bodies of the fallen and the brave. And asked myself why I had survived the landing, the terrible fire, and the first wave. Among me lay the desperate men who died So I kept my fear and my tears inside. I had but a moment before I could offer thanks to my maker. And left the beach, the bunkers and the bodies floating in the breakers. __________________ "Inspiration is always a surprising visitor."

Jun 1, 2004, 05:38 AM	#4
mainman Mr. Nobody Join Date: Jul 2003 Location: OmniPresent Nightwatcher Posts: 5,961 Rep Power: 71	Beautifull work Jeff!!!!! __________________

Jun 1, 2004, 05:44 AM	Thread Starter #5
Falstaff Old Codger Join Date: Sep 2002 Location: USAFA Posts: 19,048 Rep Power: 207	thankyou, I wonder sometimes, listening to the old veterans in the oncology ward twenty years ago, if they wanted me to understand how they compared the fear of death at the hands of the enemy with the fear of death and the determination to fight on even in their hospital beds, with tubes and machines keeping them alive, I watched a generation of warriors succumb to disease and listened while I tended to their needs in their hospital beds. We called the oncology ward "stairway to heaven", and I spent hours after work, just listening to these men pass on into the darkness of their mortality and into the light of their finite exisitence...I wonder about them and hope they found their heaven or their Vahalla... __________________ "Inspiration is always a surprising visitor."

Jun 1, 2004, 05:36 AM	#3
Patricia DriverHeaven's Angel Join Date: Jun 2003 Posts: 216 Rep Power: 0	I am speechless... Very good work Jeff